


Tell Me

by 221BJen (jcoz1701)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Person, Internal Monologue, John's POV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcoz1701/pseuds/221BJen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was born from an idea that I had during my thinking time, otherwise known as the shower, and I couldn't let it go. I was inspired to try my hand at first person POV due to Ivyblossom's fantastic fic  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/322978/chapters/520106/">The Quiet Man</a>  (go read it, seriously it's great!). </p><p>So anyway, here you go, hope you like it.</p><p>Special thanks to gowerstreet for the lightning fast beta work and thanks to diewarm for giving it a read through and then a big thumbs up.</p><p>And very special thanks to  <a href="http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/67234.html/">Ariane Devere</a>  and the fantastic resource that she has created in the transcripts for all of the episodes. Her hard work is much appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Tell Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from an idea that I had during my thinking time, otherwise known as the shower, and I couldn't let it go. I was inspired to try my hand at first person POV due to Ivyblossom's fantastic fic [The Quiet Man](http://archiveofourown.org/works/322978/chapters/520106/) (go read it, seriously it's great!). 
> 
> So anyway, here you go, hope you like it.
> 
> Special thanks to gowerstreet for the lightning fast beta work and thanks to diewarm for giving it a read through and then a big thumbs up.
> 
> And very special thanks to [Ariane Devere](http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/67234.html/) and the fantastic resource that she has created in the transcripts for all of the episodes. Her hard work is much appreciated!

I watch as Mary kisses your cheek. I’m not jealous. OK. I am. I’m jealous and angry and sad that she gets to casually touch you like that when she’s the one who doesn’t deserve to share the air you breathe.

_I hate her._

_I hate you just a bit right now, too._

You’re leaving me. Again. Only this time I get to say goodbye. I’m not sure if this is better or worse than last time.

She steps away. I’ve completely missed what you said to each other, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You’re leaving.

I don’t look at her as she walks back to my side and I don’t flinch when she takes my hand. And you tell me that I’m no actor. I think I’ve proved you wrong.

_I’ve proved you both wrong._

She doesn’t suspect. She did before, but after that farce at Christmas, she bought the lie, hook, line and sinker. You don’t even suspect that I’m lying. You think that I’ve forgiven her because that’s what you told me to do. I’ll give you a hint, Sherlock. I don’t always follow orders.

_As if I could forgive her._

Oh, and while we’re on that subject, you are nothing like her. I know you’ve killed people but for a different reason. I read the file. I know.

And now you’re speaking to Mycroft.

“Since this is likely to be the last conversation I’ll have with John Watson…” _Oh, really?_ “...would you mind if we took a moment?”

Mycroft looks as shocked as he ever looks. _He knows, Sherlock. We all know. Well, the people that matter in the least little bit know._

 _Tell me_. That’s what I want to say. What I actually say is “So, here we are.” _Yes. Here we are and all I need for you to do is_ tell me _. Please_.

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes.”

“Sorry?” _You wanker. I know exactly what you’re doing._

“That’s the whole of it - if you’re looking for baby names.” I hate you right now, but I can’t help but laugh.

“No, we’ve had a scan. We’re pretty sure it’s a girl.” _I’m also pretty sure she’s not mine_. Neither of them are mine. Not any more.

But you could be. _Tell me_.

“Oh. Okay.” That smile. Just don’t. _Please tell me_. That’s all I’m asking you to do.

“Yeah.” This is beyond awkward and I’m dying inside but, “Actually, I can’t think of a single thing to say.” That’s a lie. I can think of a single thing to say, but I need you say it first. _You have to say it first, Sherlock. Lead and I’ll follow, just like always._

“No, neither can I.” Damn it all, Sherlock. _Tell me!_

I think of the only thing that I can say to get a rise out of you. “The game is over.”

“The game is never over, John.” That got a reaction. “But there may be some new players now. It’s okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end.”

What are you saying? New players? One player is standing there in her red coat with her hand on her belly, carrying another man’s child. Is that who you’re talking about?

“What’s that?” I don’t understand. As usual. _I need you to tell me_.

“It’s a story my brother told me when we were kids. The East Wind - this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path.” I don’t want to look at you right now. I do anyway and you continue. “It seeks out the unworthy and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me.”

“Nice.” I could cheerfully strangle Mycroft right now for making you believe that you don’t deserve to be loved.

“He was a rubbish big brother.” Rubbish doesn’t even begin to describe the utter shite that he has filled your head with. I smile at you. See? Actor.

I have to ask. “So what about you, then? Where are you actually going now?”

 _Tell me_. One word. Well, three. _Tell me_ and I’ll get on that plane with you right now. I don’t actually care where you’re going as long as I get to be there with you.

“Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe.” _Liar_.

“For how long?” I don’t care how long. Take me with you. _Tell me_.

“Six months, my brother estimates. He’s never wrong.” God damn you, Mycroft. This is the best you could do?

“And then what?” I know you’re not coming back. Not from this. It’s a prolonged death sentence that your brother has set up for you.

“Who knows?” _Liar_. You think I don’t know, but I can tell when you’re lying.

I can’t look at you. And then, “John, there’s something ... I should say; I-I’ve _meant_ to say always and then never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now.” Yes! Please. _Tell me. Tell me_ and I’ll tell you that I love you too and we’ll get on that plane and we’ll live together until we die together. _Tell me_.

“Sherlock is actually a girl’s name.” _Seriously?_ I can see it in your eyes. It’s shining there like a beacon but I can tell you’re holding back the words. _Why?_

I play along. “It’s not.”

“It was worth a try.” Sherlock. Sherlock, we’re running out of time. _Please_.

“We’re not naming our daughter after you.” Not my daughter. Not my daughter, not even my wife. Not really.

“I think it could work.” Sherlock Watson. That could definitely work. Watson-Holmes, Holmes-Watson, I'll take your name, I don’t care. As long as you’re mine. We’re out of time. You’re not going to say it and I’m not going to say it and we’re going to lose each other. Again.

I look at your hand. Elegance and art. Violence and death. All contained in those delicate fingers.

“To the very best of times, John.” You’re telling me goodbye. I want to punch you, I want to kiss you, I want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you until you give up this foolishness and _tell me_.

I take your hand instead. It starts as a handshake but ends with both of us clinging to each other, not ready to let go just yet.

I watch you get on that damned plane. I can’t move. I can’t do anything. I feel Mary’s presence beside me but all that matters is the void that you’re leaving behind. You’re going to die out there and I will never forgive you.

\--

Miss me?

\--

 _Thank god_. I never thought I would ever say those words in regards to Jim Moriarty, but _thank god_. I look at Mary. She’s panicking, I can see it written all over her face. _Good_.

“But he’s dead. I mean, you told me he was dead, Moriarty.”

Of course he’s dead. “Absolutely. He blew his own brains out.”

She doesn’t believe me. “So how can he be back?” Fine, don’t believe me. I honestly don’t care. You’re coming back. You’re coming back and sod this, Sherlock. Sod this and all manner of things.

I can’t help but give her a little poke to amp up her fear. She deserves it. “Well, if he _is_ ... he’d better wrap up warm.” You’re coming back. Oh my god, you’re coming _back_. 

“There’s an East Wind coming.” I watch the plane come back to earth and bring you back to me. I refuse to let this second (third, who’s even counting?) chance go to waste. 

I love you. And now it’s my turn to lead the way.


End file.
